Page 155 of Just for the Cameras
His eyes flash up to mine, sorrow so strong in his expression that I feel the threads that are holding me together unravel. That look, it’s torture, and within seconds, it’s my undoing.
Any last bit of anger I have toward him fades into a distant memory as I move in close, bringing my hands to his chest and slowly sliding them up to his face. When his dark, hurt eyes meet mine, I know there’s nothing left that I could hold back.
This is it.
I’m handing my heart over.
I stand on my toes, bring him down closer to me, and press my lips to his.
He sucks in a sharp breath of surprise and then, as if the stars have aligned, his arms slide around my waist, and he deepens our kiss, bringing us both into the apartment and shutting the door behind him with his foot.
He gently presses me against the wall, where his hand moves to my cheek, and he angles my chin up with his thumb while his other hand grips my waist tightly, keeping me in place.
Keeping me close.
Shivers of need, of lust, spike up my spine as his kiss continues to deepen, continues to grow with more passion, and when he lifts me, Iwrap my legs around his waist while he holds me against the wall, making the angle of our kisses so much more intense.
“Fuck,” he breathes shallowly, his forehead pressing against mine. “I don’t…I don’t deserve this.”
I nod. “You do.”
He pulls back just enough for me to look him in the eyes. “I don’t, Maple. I really fucking don’t.” His eyes search mine. “But, fuck, I’m just selfish enough to take it.” And then his mouth is on mine again, his hand moving into my hair, his chest pressing against mine like he can’t get close enough.
His lips, although exploratory, are urgent, like he can’t believe this moment is happening, and he isn’t going to let it slip through his fingers. And I feel that same urgency as I part my lips to catch his gasp, his lips parting as well.
Tendrils of desire pool in my stomach as I grip his face, my thumbs rubbing over his scruff while my tongue slips past his lips and strokes his.
The touch causes a groan to slip from him, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard. Given that he’s such a dominant man, I wouldn’t expect to be able to control him with a swipe of my tongue. But from the way he’s pressing against me, I know that I have him in my grasp.
And I want so much more.
I pull away for a moment and look him in the eyes, my thumbs running over his cheeks. He expertly navigates my apartment and brings me to my bedroom, where he lays me down gently on the bed and kneels on the mattress as well, his arms caging me in as he stares down at me.
I reach around his back and tug up his shirt. He grabs the hem when I bring it close to his neck, and in one swift motion, he has it over his head and drops it to the floor.
My eyes immediately fall to his chest, the planes and curves carved out by his rock-hard muscle enticing my fingers. It’s not the first time I’m seeing him shirtless, but it’s the first time I get to feel his smooth, hotskin against mine, and I can’t stop myself from letting my fingers explore every contour of his body.
Our eyes connect as he allows me to feel, allows my fingers to skim across him, over his pecs and across his abs.
He swallows thickly when I draw closer to his waistband and loop my fingers in his jeans, tugging him down so he’s on top of me, his bare chest to my clothed one. His forearms cage my head, and his hand pushes some of my hair off my forehead in a very intimate act before he slows down our kisses and expertly lowers his mouth to mine, now taking his time, letting our tongues tangle and our heady attraction to each other mix.
One of his hands travels down to my waist, where he untucks my shirt from my pants, then slides his hand under the fabric, his palm connecting with my skin.
A bundle of nerves tightens in my stomach from his touch, and I wiggle beneath him, wanting to take off my shirt completely.
Thankfully, he lifts up for a moment to let me do just that and I move it to the side, lying beneath him in just my pink bra and pants.
He growls in my ear before kissing the skin just below it, then my jaw, then my neck, and as he works down to my collarbone, anticipation rips through me when he nips at the swell of my breast. He glances up at me, looking for me to stop him, but when I don’t, he pulls down the cup of my bra, releasing my breast to the lustful air that surrounds us. He kisses it, his beard like a delicious sandpaper across my skin right before he kisses the tip of my nipple.
I suck in a harsh breath as he parts his mouth and brings the tip right between his lips and sucks, torturing me with the thought of so much more.
Like for him to take off the rest of my clothes, spread my legs, and remind me what it’s like to be held, licked, sucked, and fucked by a man.
“More,” I whisper, my nerves grabbing hold of me, but my hunger driving me to speak up.
But he doesn’t listen. He lets go of my breast and drags his mouth, kissing the whole way up, to my neck, then my jaw and back to my lips, intoxicating me into a drunken state, his mouth in control.
How did we get here so quickly?I mean, I’ve been attracted to him since day one—even if I’ve told myself I haven’t been—but here we are making out…a prelude to sex.
